I'm terribly sorry for the delay and hope you're still with me.

The next update could take some time thanks to school.

Thanks for sticking with me. :-) Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 6

Home alone

Carson was hiding. He knew it was somewhat ridiculous. He wasn't a little boy anymore, but when everyone downstairs was against him he had no choice, but to flee to his pantry.

He had started to polish the sliver and had paid attention to all the noise coming from outside. And there was a lot of noise. The family had left Downton after luncheon to visit a garden party on another estate and Lord Grantham had given the staff the afternoon off. Since this had been an official announcement, there was nothing Carson could have done to stop everyone from making plans. The air in the servant's hall had been so full with chatter that Carson had had a terrible headache moments after entering. Mrs. Hughes had been sitting next to him as always, smiling happily at the excitement that had taken control of the younger ones. Finally Mrs. Patmore had silenced everybody by suggesting a picnic at the lake and there had been no stopping them. They had packed up their things and Carson had fled to his pantry.

He didn't want to spoil anyone's fun, so he decided to stay behind. He wouldn't be missed. No one would look for him and he could get some work done in the quiet. But while he was polishing the silver and he heard everyone going through the back door, he realized that there was one person downstairs who cared for him and who would come looking for him. His movements slowed. He heard her footsteps outside the door, heard her keys how they clashed against her hip, could picture her in every detail. Her perfectly pinned up hair. Her simple dress that always pronounced her lovely curves no matter the amount of layers woman's fashion included. Then there was the soft knock at the door and she entered.

He was standing in the middle of his pantry, a piece of sliver in one hand, the other holding the polishing cloth, a very absentminded expression on his face. "I knew you'd be in here", she said. "Won't you come to the lake with the others?"

He looked up at her. "I would make them uncomfortable" he pointed out, restarting the polishing.

"Certainly not. You were there when we all visited the beach and no one was uncomfortable", she reminded him. "Be honest, Mr. Carson. You only want to work."

He sighed. "I'll admit that."

She studied his face. It seemed that there was more behind that distanced behaviour to freetime than she knew at the moment and she wanted to know what else there was buried under his uniform. "Can I ask you something?"

He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly.

She bit her bottom lip, hoping that he wouldn't be angry with her. "I wonder why you always try to avoid having a bit off freetime. What is it that terrifies you so much about enjoying yourself?"

He stared at her, taken aback by her question, direct and shameless, maybe even improper, but he was still glad she asked. It assured him that she cared. She if no one else and he had reached the point where he would just be thankful for that. And he would answer her honestly. No avoiding the facts this time. No lies or silence about the truth. No, this time he would answer her. "I'm used to be Carson, the butler. Freetime doesn't fit into that role. Freetime always pushes me to be Charles again, but I… I haven't been him in a while, so I try to avoid it. To avoid him. He was quite foolish and I don't mean to mess things up by being him." He ended, staring at her. Her expression hadn't changed during his speech that hadn't made too much sense to him. But he didn't know how else to put it. He felt panic rise in him when she remained standing there, looking at him and saying nothing. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded warm and comforting.

"Mr. Carson, you will most certainly not mess up anything by being you. I understand that there is a difference between Carson and Charles as there is between Mrs. Hughes and Elsie, I can tell you, but why on earth would Charles mess things up? Why would he be foolish? Because if I may say so, Mr. Carson, the butler is capable of these things just as well." She looked at him, an amused sparkle in her eyes. She had seen so many glimpses of Charles in the last decades that she had been able to put the puzzle together. She was sure she knew quite a lot about him by now and she loved both Mr. Carson and Charles. There was only a small wall between the two and how often had he broken through? His soft spot for the young ladies and the little ones of upstairs, his caring for the youngsters downstairs, his singing when he had been told she wasn't ill, his adorable behaviour on the beach and not to forget that evening in his pantry when Miss Sybbie had paid them an unexpected visit. Didn't he know that? Wasn't it as obvious as she thought?

Had she just told him that he was foolish and messed things up? He was about to let his temper take over him when he realized how right she was. His love for traditions and his hate for change had caused quite a few messed up moments in which he indeed had appeared like a fool. And him not realizing that was even more evidence for him being a fool. From her words he understood that she didn't mean the sad old fool he feared of being, but a nice old fool who she had learnt to handle. "You are right, Mrs. Hughes", he said. "I guess, I only don't want to lose my authority by showing them my softer side."

"They all know about that one", she pointed out gently. "You let it slip a few times."

"Have I?", he said, knowing that he had. She nodded in response. "So, have you changed your mind about going to the lake then?", she asked hopefully.

He could see that she wanted him to go with her and his heart told him to do just that. But there was another voice in his head who told him to take advantage of everyone being gone and he listened to that voice for the first time in a long time. "Yes, I have, although I would prefer it not to go right away."

She raised her eyebrows, confused by his statement. What was he talking about?

"I thought about spending an hour or so here in private", he explained, a hopeful expression on his face.

"I don't know how, but you managed to make that sound a little risqué", she repeated his words from the beach which fitted perfectly into their current situation. She watched how the shock waved over his face. "I meant to have a chat… like the ones we have in the evenings", he stammered.

Mrs. Hughes smiled warmly at him. "If that's so I shall have no objection."

He led out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Give me a moment to order things in here. I'll join you in your sitting room shortly."

She nodded and left him. He had locked away the silver in no time and used a few minutes to cool down. He needed to free himself from all improper thoughts the word risqué had put into his mind. When he was satisfied with the focus of his thoughts, he left his pantry and knocked at the door of her sitting room. He entered without waiting for an answer. She sat at her desk and turned to face him. She placed her hands in her lap. "Well, have a seat, Mr. Carson, and tell me whatever it was you thought of telling me."

He moved the free chair as close as he dared to her and sat down. He took a deep breath. "To be honest, Mrs. Hughes, I didn't think of any particular thing to talk about. I had hoped we could start a conversation just like that."

She relaxed where she sat and studied his face. He seemed to have let down his wards. His behaviour changed more and more with every day that passed. "Would you allow me to ask you something?"

He knew she wanted to ask a personal question. But she wanted to do so without making him angry or feeling offended. She is your friend, he reminded himself. She may ask whatever she wishes too. "Please ask, Mrs. Hughes, but try to find a not so shocking way of doing so", he teased, alluding to her usual direct way of speaking.

She gave him a warning glance, but he could tell from her eyes that she liked the fact that he for once teased her and not the other way around. "You always say that your past on the stage is a part of your life you prefer to forget and I understand you so far as that we have all experienced things we like to ban from our thoughts, but something tells me that you are not entirely honest. That you have enjoyed it to some point. I'd like to know your true feelings about it."

She knew him too well. He was an open book to her and she read it, always trying to figure out a way to help him. His behaviour seemed to have encouraged her to be fully open in his presence. At least he had achieved that. "I wouldn't say I prefer to forget that I was a Cheerful Charlie once now. Not after that business with Grigg and Alice solved itself. Stage always reminded me of her and my broken heart so I didn't think about it. But now you have made me heal and I can actually smile about the silliness of my youth."

I healed him, she thought deeply touched. He thinks I healed him. It took all her willingness to keep her composure. She was close to tears. A few weeks ago he would have never said such a thing, whether it was true or not. She blinked away the tears. "Tell me about this silliness", she teased.

He leaned back thinking of the right story to tell her. "We didn't only sing and dance", he admitted then. "Some of our singing acts required a bit more than dancing to really entertain anybody. We would use ridiculous hats, umbrellas and walking sticks to extend the simple stuff we started with. I even learnt to juggle. We developed into a two man circus."

She giggled when he mentioned the juggling. "You can juggle? My, my, what a sight that must be now." She couldn't help, but picture him juggling the silver. He would never do such a thing with the precious silver, but the image was clear and amusing.

"I haven't done it for years. Would you like me to try?"

She stopped her giggling and raised her eyebrows at him. She couldn't believe that he would really do that. "Go ahead", she said and he got up, disappearing in the hallway, returning with a few apples from the kitchen. "Now", he said excited like a school boy. She watched while he picked three apples and threw them in the air. He was indeed able to juggle.

He had to focus not to miss the falling apples, but after a few moments he relaxed a little and started humming. He remembered the tune, but not the lyrics. He caught the apples when the song was over and bowed a little towards Mrs. Hughes. She was biting her bottom lip not to laugh out loud about the adorable sight he had just offered her. "Almost three decades and you are still able to surprise me, Mr. Carson."

He smiled a smile that reached his eyes. "Three decades", he sighed. "Unbelievable that we have never truly used our first names."

"That is not entirely true. When I was head housemaid you used mine", she reminded him.

"For a year, yes, but look at us now. We have long passed the status of colleagues, haven't we? We are friends." They had locked eyes and she got up from her chair to stand in front of him.

"That we are", she agreed. "And you may use my first name if you like when we are alone. I don't mind."

"As much as I'd liked to accept this offer, I don't think I could ever get used to calling you Elsie." He was standing too close, again. And again he couldn't care less. Her scent filled his senses and his mind stopped working. She was the only thing he was paying attention to. Every fibre of his being was focused on her.

She could smell his cologne and felt the warmth that came from his body. They were only inches away from each other. She raised her hands and placed them gently on his chest. "Charles", she whispered, her emotions collapsing above her like a huge wave, leaving her helplessly controlled by them. He whispered her name in return, sending shivers down her spine with his deep voice. Their breaths were entangled and Mrs. Hughes already closed her eyes in anticipation of his lips. He had lowered his face to hers, the urge to kiss her overwhelming him. He moved his hands to rest on her hips and draw her closer, but a loud noise coming from the kitchen made them jump apart. Both their hearts were beating faster, millions of thoughts crashed down on them, but a second bang helped them to regain their composure. They exchanged looks, ready to give whomever they would find in the kitchen the lecture of his life, not because of the noise or the fact that he was in the kitchen, but because he had destroyed one of the most precious moments they had ever shared.

They stormed to the kitchen, both stopping at the door. It hadn't been a person disturbing them, but a hungry cat that messed up Mrs. Patmore's tidy and clean kitchen. Mrs. Hughes was even more frustrated then and swore to herself that she would throw the cat outside herself.

Carson couldn't quite decide whether he should join the cat in destroying the kitchen or if he should grab it and throw it to Isis. Thanks to that filthy thing Mrs. Hughes and he found themselves at the exact same point of the path where they had left of after putting Miss Sybbie to bed. God knew when they would find the time and courage to take the next step again. It had happened all by itself and now he was back in reality and unsure of basically everything. Her feelings and thoughts, whether he should have overstepped the line and whether he should regret his actions. He became once more aware of how low his desire was to retire and that would mean no next step.

He stiffened. A sign that the butler was back and Charles buried under him. He had wanted to kiss her and god knew when he would try that again. She could have no doubts about his feelings for her anymore, but many about his acting on them. Now that this moment of overstepping the line was over it all depended on her once more. She would have never guessed that things could turn out to be so complicated between them.

"Where does that come from?", he growled, gesturing towards the cat.

"It must have entered through an open window or door", she replied.

The cat was grey and stood on the kitchen table, staring at them.

"How do we get it outside?", she asked then.

"Either we catch it or I get Isis to hunt it", he grumbled.

"I don't think the dog would be of much help. She isn't the youngest anymore."

Carson moved slowly towards the cat. It followed his movements and when he had almost reached it, it jumped on the floor and stormed away through his legs. Mrs. Hughes blocked the door so it ran around the table and stopped in front of the oven. Carson followed. He knew he couldn't catch a cat, but his anger kept him going. In the end the cat disappeared somewhere in the hallway, Carson running after it. Mrs. Hughes stayed behind to clear up the mess. When he returned that one curl had escaped and his face was reddened. He breathed heavily. She should have laughed or teased him, but she didn't feel like it. She wanted the moment back he had stood close, hands on her hips, meaning to kiss her. She had longed for any kind of action from him towards her and didn't want to let an opportunity slip. Her steps were uncertain, she struggled holding his gaze. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, but he pushed her away gently. "I can't", he whispered. "Not yet."

She thought she would pass out. He had changed his mind and what chance was there of him changing it again? Her pain was written all over her face.

He felt guilty; his heart ached at the sight of her pain. He felt the need to explain himself. To assure her that he loved her. To assure her that he wouldn't ignore the life they could have outside of Downton. He just wasn't ready to leave. "I'm sorry, Elsie", he said, her name feeling strange on his tongue. "Please be patient with me."

She bit back the tears. He had given her hope. At least he had done that. "I will try to be, Charles", she replied, her voice shaking a little.

He offered her his arm. "Let's join the others and tell Mrs. Patmore about the cat. She will be absolute furious, don't you think?"

She accepted his arm. "She will be, but when I tell her about you running around hunting that thing she will die of laughter."

He chuckled. "We can't have that, Mrs. Hughes. We would all starve."

"Have a little faith in Daisy and Sophie, Mr. Carson", she told him as they left through the backdoor. It was butler and housekeeper again, stuck on the path to their happy ending.

Sorry for giving the cat the part of the villian. I usually love cats and I'm sure Carson & Mrs. Hughes don't mind them too. :)

Please leave a review if you have got the time. Thanks in advance!